


Tremors

by poland



Category: Stand Still Stay Silent
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-16
Updated: 2015-09-16
Packaged: 2018-04-21 02:05:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,320
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4810736
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/poland/pseuds/poland
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lalli didn’t stir as Emil felt the strong ridge that was his cheekbone underneath the strands of hair. Emil wondered if maybe his admiration of them was envy…no, he was pretty much beautiful just the way he was, pronounced bone structure or not. Actually, there was no ‘pretty much’ about it if you asked him. But his hand paused, task of hair combing forgotten, and felt the bone with a finger and then a light knuckle. It was nice, he thought. They looked nice. They felt nice. The smooth skin that covered them was nice.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tremors

**Author's Note:**

> I have literally never written for a fandom that wasn't Hetalia so I'm really sorry I'm alive :')

It was often Emil saw Lalli’s body twitch slightly on the floor where he was sleeping, glimpsing the movement out of the corner of his eye. They were never anything major; no seizing or all out shuddering, but the motions were strong and lasted long enough that he felt concern in the pit of his chest. Sometimes when he was sitting on his designated cot, cleaning a weapon and with the mage underneath the opposite one on the floor, he could almost feel the movement himself. Maybe it was a subconscious notion, seeing as how it was unlikely that the entire tank would move or the beds themselves just because of a slight jerking on occasion. He once brought it up to Tuuri when she was inside going through a book and cataloging it, Lalli on the floor and hands making slight clenching motions.

“That’s not—” Emil started, then realizing his heightened voice and loud volume. He dropped down to what he thought was a reasonably low whisper despite his worried emotions. “That’s not good, is it? It’s some kind of medical problem, right? Mikkel should look at him. It could be serious!”

Tuuri simply glanced over; face not exactly contorted with concern. “Oh. That’s just a mage thing. It happens.”

While Tuuri went back to work, Emil just looked forlorn. He did not understand “mage things.” Some weird magical eccentricities he could handle to some degree, but others just made his stomach churn. On a scale, magic-induced night tremors were between strange Finnish yelling and running off to chant about the dead or something else equally morbid. The first time they happened he thought they were maybe just the result of an upset stomach and motion sickness. Now they just made him nervous for his friend.

Truthfully it had actually been a while since he’d thought about it, mostly because he hadn’t actually seen Lalli asleep in days and days. Their schedules just hadn’t meshed for a couple of weeks. It was only when Mikkel handed him two bowls of food, actually distinguishably edible this time, and instructed him to go find the other boy and make sure he ate that he had a real chance to see him asleep. No complaints there. He’d seen Lalli for about two seconds before he high tailed it somewhere that was decidedly not where anyone else was. They could eat together, talk a little (if you could call Emil blathering about something for 30 minutes and Lalli making slightly animalistic noises occasionally a conversation), and then go about their daily business. The routine was almost comforting, Emil thought as he boarded the tank with a grin and a bowl in each hand.

Except the routine faltered when he finally found Lalli curled up in the desk chair in the second compartment of the tank. He stood for a while, watching awkwardly as he wondered what he was supposed to do now. Waking him would be one option, but he thought about Lalli angrily glaring at him and refusing to eat and that idea soured quickly. Well, if he sat his food on the desk then he could eat when he woke up. If Mikkel took issue with that then HE could be the one receiving the angry look, not him.

Despite Lalli’s small frame he still didn’t fit completely on the seat, with his calves and feet sticking out on one side, precariously dangling just slightly with his face half turned to the back cushion. Emil placed the bowl down quietly, not wanting to disturb him if at all possible. But with Lalli’s face towards the back of the chair and hands next to it, he didn’t see the slight movement or hear the small and muffled whines until he leaned over to leave him his breakfast.

Emil sat his own food down as he bent slightly and pat the side of Lalli’s head that he could see, softly and only a few times, looking solemn as the slightly wriggling fingers continued to move sporadically. Emil didn’t want to wake him up, but he knew he could stop this happening. It didn’t seem like a bad idea, “mage stuff” or not. Lalli had never seemed angry afterwards, or as if Emil had stopped something pleasant from going on. No matter how nonchalant Tuuri was about it, and whether his thinking so was misplaced concern, nothing about this actually seemed comfortable.

He softly stroked his hair, almost motherly, which made him smirk and felt his smile grow wider as Lalli finally stopped. The soft noises he’d been making also subsided and Emil breathed a shallow sigh of relief. In his stroking he’d accidentally mused Lalli’s hair, so he made it a point to correct his mistake as best he could with only about one-third of it to work with, also while trying to be gentle. Luckily, when Lalli was asleep he was out like a light.

He didn’t have his gloves on yet which made combing through his side bangs easier, noticing a little tangle. Lalli probably got it from running amok in the wilderness or being hit with Mikkel’s little blow gun, he thought with a bemused expression. Emil’s hand pulled back as his fingernails accidentally scratched Lalli’s cheek mid-comb. This would be so much easier if he was awake, but even in the middle of a nap he didn’t need to look like a drowned rat. One day maybe he would appreciate the fact that Emil looked out for him in little ways like that.

He quickly fixed the rest of his hair with quick finger combing, grazing the side of his friend’s face again, but didn’t mind as much this time. Lalli didn’t stir as Emil felt the strong ridge that was his cheekbone underneath the strands of hair. Emil wondered if maybe his admiration of them was envy…no, he was pretty much beautiful just the way he was, pronounced bone structure or not. Actually, there was no ‘pretty much’ about it if you asked him. But his hand paused, task of hair combing forgotten, and felt the bone with a finger and then a light knuckle. It was nice, he thought. They looked nice. They felt nice. The smooth skin that covered them was nice.

It was then that a loud clashing noise from outside the truck caused him to almost double over in surprise, accidentally causing the whole of his hand to hit Lalli’s face. In almost an instant he stood erect; holding out his offending limb like it was the culprit of some crime. In fact, suddenly Emil’s nerves ran on overdrive. Maybe a little of it was guilt, but a lot of it was embarrassment as he looked from the wall of the tank to Lalli, obviously not sleeping through such a heavy-handed touch (quite literally) and hands instinctively moving to the side of his face before his eyes thrust open.

“Uhm—!” That was all Emil could manage, though obviously the wrong idea as Lalli raised himself up to look at the source of the noise, and most likely the cause of his facial injury, with first a confused stare and then one of complete agitation. “Uhm! Breakfast, you know! Breakfast! Eat up! I’ll be. Outside! Out!” In a sudden realization that Lalli understood literally zero percent of what he said, Emil emphatically pointed to the outside area before breaking their gaze and racing outside. He at least had a reason now that it sounded like a commotion had occurred. He noticed Lalli glaring after him from the side of the chair as he turned the corner, and became upset that he’d ruined that moment, even if it was just a moment with himself and his thoughts.

Unfortunately the noise was simply Reynir dropping a set of cooking dishes. While Emil was glad it wasn’t a troll catastrophe, he could only think that he was a little bitter that the strange Icelandic man caused Lalli to look at him so sourly. He sat down with a sigh on a crate, Sigrun scolding Reynir simply background noise, only then remembering he left his food back inside with Lalli. Emil didn’t mind, he found. His stomach felt tight and his heart was pounding too loudly to eat at the moment.

Mikkel had gone about cleaning up the dirty dishes Reynir had dropped on the ground but turned to Emil. “Did you feed him? The mage?”

“Uh, yeah! Sort of.” Emil sat up straight and replied more nervously than he would have liked. Mikkel simply blinked at him and went back to his business.

He watched everyone else begin to get ready and decided that would probably be for the best. Maybe Sigrun would even praise him if he got ready without prompting and that would lift his spirits a little more. In normal situations, Emil did not care for being disliked under any circumstances. Lalli being sour at him, though, especially about something that maybe would make him very irritated and suspicious…wait, there wasn’t anything suspicious! He was simply taking care of his friend’s personal grooming! That was basically part of his job anyway since he had now been made the official Lalli bather of the team. He hadn’t done anything wrong or suspect, so what was there to be so nervous about? He smiled to himself and stood up to retrieve his gear, sure Sigrun would soon be around to tell him about their days plans. He wasn’t even sure if Tuuri had even spoken to her cousin yet, so he still had some time to get ready.

And yet he tried to convince himself of this but got to the steps of the tank and froze, not wanting to go inside and face an angry mage.

Emil was sure if he stood at the steps for much longer that another teammate would look at him and think something weird or ask him to move and just only humiliate him further. After a deep breath he stepped into the tank with a game face on—

— only to be met with the exact person he was so nervous about seeing. Part of him hoped Lalli just went back to sleep. But no, there he was, standing there in his black under suit and soft pants, scouting hood draped over his head and holding a food bowl. Eyes wide and face unreadable, as usual.

“Oh, uh, Lalli, you see.” Emil tried to explain with his words, moving his hands lightly back and forth, trying to figure out what motion he could mistake to get his point across. What was his point? Sorry I accidentally hit you while you were sleeping? Sorry I think you have nice skin and you have really beautiful bone structure? That last one was just silly and his mind waved it off, but it still made him nervous and his eyes go wide. “It was just breakfast time! Like I said earlier! Even if you had no idea I said that. Anyway—”

It was then that Lalli thrust out the small bowl towards Emil who was still not fully into the tank and a step below him. Emil looked from the food to Lalli’s piercing eyes and back. It then dawned on him: this was his food and Lalli was going to come outside to give it to him. He took it from him roughly, not focusing on the millisecond their hands touched and the small dribble that sloshed over the side.

“Aha…thanks.” He sheepishly offered as Lalli still stood there considering him for a second. Something about it made Emil feel more awkward than before so he held the bowl with one hand and continued to try to pantomime through their language barrier, pointing towards the back of the tank. “But now it’s time to work. I think anyway. So I need to get dressed and ready, alright? But thanks again.” He pointed again and motioned across his chest where his belt would be. “Work?”

As Lalli stood there looking at him still, Emil was both relieved and a little exasperated. He no longer looked annoyed, but instead was contemplative, or he could only guess that was his expression. But just standing there and trying to play charades wasn’t going to get him anywhere and he was already quite full up on embarrassment for one day, he didn't need any more of it. When he would realize later that he'd gotten food on his trousers from the slosh, that idea would be thrown out the window. For now, however, he was more than ready to go exploring and maybe set something on fire, avoiding all other incidents.

That wouldn't be the case either. The next gesture his friend extended confused him at first. Lalli simply raised his hand and quickly pat the side of Emil’s face once, twice, and then slid his hand down the side of it. He said something in Finnish during this exercise, but it was short and choppy. It wasn’t like he could understand it anyway. But as soon as he was done, Lalli simply turned and walked to the front of the tank, taking his new assigned seat next to Tuuri as she drove through the ruins of old Denmark.

Emil stood still for a moment, swallowing and collecting his thoughts. He stepped into the tank and its second compartment, setting his food bowl down exactly where it had been when Lalli had picked it up to bring it to him moments ago. He sunk down into the same seat where he’d been sleeping merely minutes before. A hand went up to touch his face and felt how it had become hot.

At times he understood Lalli perfectly, maybe more than anybody else on board. Other times he was a complete and utter mystery. Emil wasn’t exactly sure what category he should put this instance in.


End file.
